


The Aftermath

by Anonymous



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, FIFA World Cup 2018, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 23:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15302181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It was a rough loss to cope with, but everybody had their ways.





	The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> I’m upset Croatia lost. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. Kudos and comments are appreciated.

It was done, over. The rocky start was nothing, they equalized. Goals kept pouring in, everybody seemingly got their chance to score on Croatia. Even the pitch invaders probably could have if they weren’t taken off. Even if they took advantage of Lloris’ faulty footwork.

 

Luka was taking it to heart. Subašić was being given the cold shoulder by the majority of the world, the Croatian team weren’t ones to discriminate against their own teammate.

 

They knew they were the fan favorites. The small country, with players growing up surrounded by war all around. The same country who finally made it to a final, when other larger countries failed to do such a thing. They fought and fought, extra time and penalties were a high risk gamble but the other teams always folded. Making their way higher in the tournament, it was like a dream they never wanted to wake up from.

 

Four to two. Four and two. Those dreaded numbers that Luka didn’t want to even think about, forcing his eyes away from Perišić and Vrsalkjo until they had changed out of their jerseys, not to be used until a Euro if they were lucky.

 

Glancing around the room, something was off. Where was Ivan? Raktić, that is.

 

Luka heaved himself up, soreness coursing through his body, and dug into his locker before pulling out his phone.

 

**Luka:** _Raki, where are you?_

 

Five minutes, no response.

 

Seven minutes, no response.

 

Twelve minutes, no response.

 

Seconds faded into minutes, that faded into lost time.

 

Luka looked down at his clock again. Twenty nine minutes, no response.

 

He then took note that the showers were still running. Stupid! Why didn’t he think of that earlier?

 

Sure enough, Ivan was under the shower spray, full uniform and all. The shower spray was irritating his eyes and they appeared as a dull red, Luka didn’t know if it was from the spray or the crying.

 

Luka stuck his hand under the shower spray, it was freezing. Ivan would’ve gotten hypothermia at this rate especially after being in the cold Russian air for 95 minutes. The number ten turned off the water and now crouched next to Ivan, seeming paralyzed and staring at the tiled flooring.

 

“Come on cariño, let’s get you warmed up.”

 

Rakitić nodded and let Luka drag him to a bench.

 

“Manos, Ivan.”

 

Ivan held up his hands as Luka took off his shirt, drying his upper body before replacing the soaked jersey with a spare shirt in his locker and layering on a dry training jacket and a far too large hoodie. The sudden feeling of warmth was welcoming, but Ivan’s judgement told him he was undeserving of it. Luka worked his way down and yanked off his shorts before drying the boxers as well as he could, putting sweatpants on Ivan’s legs instead.

 

“¿Qué pasa, amigo?”

 

The other man looked at him with confusion. Why he was speaking Spanish was unknown to him.

 

To Luka it felt wrong to speak Croatian, he was proud of his country and how far they had come, but the language wasn’t fitting, he couldn’t force himself to choke out a language that was uncomfortable right now. Spanish was a comfortable alternative, they both were fluent and it was like going to your best friend’s houseinstead of your own, both were home in a sense.

 

“No puedo creo, Luka.”

 

“Yo también, amor.”

 

They really didn’t believe it. They beat teams around the world, and lost because of bad luck and poor playing. The sting wouldn’t always be there, but wounds were still bleeding.

 

Luka didn’t know how to label him and Ivan. There was more than friendship there, quick kisses being stolen between interviews and sharing beds wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. The friendship label was hard to surrender so they never really discussed it.

 

As a captain you had to be accustomed to move on and be the support of the team. The Croatian captain was all too used to this feeling. Ivan however wasn’t, so that’s how a minute later, Ivan broke down.

 

The locker room was long gone abandoned. Hiccuping sobs and frantic grasps at Luka’s shirt were all Ivan was composed of now. He tried to restrain his tears but was now shaking an unhealthy amount.

 

“Let it out, it’s just us. You’re going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.” Luka whispered as he supported Ivan’s head with one hand, the other rubbing circles into his back.

 

That was all Ivan needed to hear as all the anguish of having your dreams crushed poured out and misery was freely expressed. Luka was the best comfort system he could ask for as the captain pressed a lingering kiss into his hair.

 

“Thank you Luka. You’re the best captain this team could ask for.” Ivan sat up slowly and forced a grin onto his face.

 

“Come on, we have a night left in the hotel and it’s been a long day.”

 

Ivan felt himself being scooped up by Luka. Luka may have been lighter but Madrid’s training was heavily focused on upper arm strength so it wasn’t an issue.

 

Luka ran in and out of the streets, keeping his head down as he avoided the media wanting interviews. He knew he would be in trouble later but right now Ivan was his priority. Ivan laughed freely at Luka trying to run while carrying him which prompted Luka to hush him with a messy kiss.

 

Moments later, the midfielder duo were in a bed, body heat being shared as Ivan refused to let go of Luka’s waist.

 

“Luka?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“You’ve called me cariño, amor, and amigo all in the same day. What are we?”

 

“We can be whatever you want us to be.”

 

“Even lovers?”

 

“Even lovers.”

 

“I’d.. I’d like that.”

 

“It’s settled then, now relax amor, there’s always the Euro and next World Cup for us. Don’t stop dreaming because we’ll still be kicking in our mid thirties.”

 

Ivan laughed and snuggled closer into Luka.


End file.
